DISCLAIMER: No infringement of copyright is intended. You know the drill,
anyone appearing on or mentioned on BtVS are ME's. New characters
introduced here are mine.
SUMMARY: It's the morning after and everyone has gotta deal with it in their own way. We've also still got a lot to reveal.... Oh, Rue! Poor, poor Xander...
WARNING: Angst, language, slanguage and general wackiness.
____________________________________________________________
Love And Darkness And My Crossbow
by Eris © 2002 -- All rights reserved.
Chapter Seven: Balancing Act
In the morning despite all her efforts, Buffy couldn't sleep. The sun was brightly shining, the birds were happily singing and outwardly, it looked to be another perfect winters day in Sunnydale. But inside, it looked more like Halloween night at Freddy Kruger's as she made her way down the stairs to the semi-clean, yet mostly still dirty-type kitchen. Nabbing a bowl and spoon, milk and cereal, she sat down to a light breakfast amid the dried blood and ruination totally losing herself back in Zoneland.
Zoning and munching, crunching and zoning her eyes eventually happened upon the remnants of Becca's duster lying next to the counter on the linoleum. Knowingly she glanced ceilingward. 'They're gonna be occupied for eternity upstairs.' Then eyed it again as she chewed. It had seen its last day, tattered and torn in spots, scuffed and stained here and there, now cut to pieces and riddled with holes, yet still accustomed to its wearer, it partially retained its shape. 'If you could speak I wonder what stories you'd tell.' Its final story had been written last night out in the woods with her sister. Protecting her. Again. Three times now she had put her life on the line and not once did she thank her, only accused her of the harm, pissing Willow off big time with her distrust. As it turned out, Becca wasn't the big master mind behind the emerald curtain after all, just another misfit like the rest of them. So, it seemed apology girl would have to suck-it-up, dispense a meat basket or two and some good old fashioned hatchet burying sorrys. Hopefully it wasn't too late and she wouldn't turn around and take a swipe at her with it. She sighed. Furthermore, today, it was finally time. Time to seriously reconsidered Dawn's incessant request to be trained. Assuming they weren't out of time. After last night's attack and the revelation she and Wil were targets, they all had better take a refresher, just in the case.
After a few more bites and an excess of mullage she decided the sooner the sooner. The sooner she started, the sooner she could enjoy the rest of Saturday. 'Yeah, right, *enjoy*.' Diving into still more reference books and training never conjugated enjoyment. 'Stupid warlock.' She pouted and abandoned her empty bowl to the sink, so with no prospect of returning to her comfy, cozy-type bed, she shook open a plastic trash bag and commenced with the clean up.
Beginning at the beginning she reached to remove the coat from its crumpled, blood-soaked pile, but it stuck to the floor, the blood solidifying it in place. Gripping it with two hands she jerked it loose, then noticed it was fairly heavy and the sleeve was somewhat rigid. There was something in it. Investigating she wasn't very surprised to remove a stiletto from its hiding place. 'Hm, what other surprises does Batman's utility belt hold?' Inspecting the collar she also found a choke wire.
Retrieving a piece of Tupperware from the shelf and placing it on the counter she dropped the items in then stuck her hand into one of the pockets and began emptying the contents. The first handful brought to light a roll of odd looking candies, a Pez dispenser and a variety of monies; crumpled bills and coins. Letting them fall to the box she reached in again. A Magic Eight Ball. Shaking it. The ball wizened, **Better not tell you now.** 'Figures, more with the cryptic from this one.' She rolled her eyes and continued. A yo-yo, string, and some smoke and cherry bombs. 'Lovely.' A superball and some jacks, jacks and more jacks. The last delve retrieved a single manacle. 'Okee, this I wanna hear.' She thought twirling it about before releasing it.
Exploring the other pocket revealed a Rubik's Cube, a small rag doll, a butane lighter, and a bottle of unmarked pills. 'The plot thickens.' Popping the top she peered at them and took a sniff. 'No clue.' Closed them up again and tossed them in with the other items. Sticking her hand in again she came up with a deck of cards, a wind up toy and... 'hm, something fuzzy at the bottom,' reaching deeper she snatched a hold of the fuzzy something and pulled it out. "Oh, gross." Promptly dropping it to the floor. It was a plump rat. She kicked at it. Make that a plump dead rat. "Sick." Then bent over, picked it up by the tail with a sneer and a disgusted shiver and returned it to the pocket. 'Blah.'
Opening the jacket up, Buffy spied more pockets in the lining. Extremely hesitant now, she cautiously patted them down and painstakingly reached inside the first breast pocket relieved to pull out a book and a handful of Polaroid's. She glanced at the book title. 'Whoa. This come in paperback? I don't even know what it means. "The Function of Root Mass Polypeptide Hydrasolates and their Effects on the Endocrine System". Is she actually reading that?' Something fell to the floor. Picking it up she saw it was an old headshot of Willow, it looked like a school photo. In it she was as when Buffy had first met her, all long hair and innocent smiles. She couldn't have been more than fourteen, fifteen.
Investigating the last pocket brought to light a small velvet jewel box which begged to be opened. Inside were two rings or was it one in pieces? Removing one she compared them. Two, exactly the same. A red stone with what looked like two crescent moons on either side and four smaller blue white stones topping a two-toned twirled band. She couldn't make out the types of metal... or the stones, she'd never seen anything like them. Moving to try one on an image from one of the Polaroid's suddenly caught her eye. Just distracting enough she returned the rings to their box dropping it into the container.
Flipping through the Polaroid's she cringed, most were disturbing images of torture, demons, vampires and some kind of crypt. Then came one that made her blood run cold, it was Willow but not as she knew her, this was a picture of that evil VampWillow, all overbite and bumpy forehead looking contentedly menacing as if she'd just fed. She rotated to the next one. VampWil biting Rue's neck, the look on their faces showed they were enjoying their lurid fun. In the last two they were creechily embroiled in a deep bloody kiss. Her mind went blank, she didn't know what to think or say, she just stared.
* * * * * * * * * *
Becca opened one groggy eye and blinked attempting to see through the blear. It was bright, way too bright for night. Her head ached. 'Where am I?' She was lying on her stomach. She never lied on her stomach. Raising her head slightly she opened her other eye and squinted trying to focus. 'Ugly minty green stripes.' Dropping her head she breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe in Willow's room. Moving to rise up and flip over she half stifled a cry as pain shot throughout her back, down her spine and about her backside, "Ahhh, shit." 'Oh, my ass! Oh, pain! Damn, I took one to the ass.'
Willow startled at the noise almost dropping her book, "Bec? Shhh, don't move." She soothed pleased to have her finally awake.
Gritting her teeth her fingers fumbled for the gauss pad on her side and removed it. "S'okay," she wanted Willow to see, "all better."
Willow ran her hand over the healing knife wound, it was just a reddish line now, so carefully she removed the rest of the bandages. All the same, they looked like they had had a week or so to heal, yet eerily the carving remained.
Rolling over Rue went into a bit of a coughing fit, "Ohhh, my lung ..." then stretched, "Sore ... stiff muscles... Ooo, back hurts, don't sleep on my stomach much." She shifted finding a more comfy position snuggling up against Willow with a cheeky grin. "That's your job."
"I'm glad someone's feeling much better this morning." She said stoking her arm tenderly.
"Mmmm," she purred crawling up to kiss her shoulder, "the healing always makes me feel all - rrrrr and woof-like," then nuzzled her neck seductively, "... Gives me extra additional-type energy..." Her stomach growled breaking the mood. "...and a wicked hunger." She snorted and flopped back down on the bed.
Willow chuckled softly and scooted down next to her relieved she was so muchly on the mend.
Rue tilted her head with concern taking in the dark circles under her eyes, "You didn't sleep."
"Not much," she sighed, "was worried about you and the residual magic's got me more spastic than a clown shoe."
She had no clue what that meant but was sure it wasn't good and made with the support. "Don't worry about me. Take a lot more than that to out me." She ran her hand down along her arm then grabbed her waist lustily pulling her in close, "Tell me what to do for you."
Willow half smiled then frowned and opened and closed her mouth unsure of what to say. "I don't know if there's anything you can do. It's my problem and I have to beat it. Unfortunately there's no Magiholicks Anonymous twelve step program or dark detox serum."
Rue affected an almost hurt expression.
So Willow quickly attempted to rephrase her words. "Oh no, sweetie, the problem is when I deal with the dark stuff it kinda feels like when we're together." She leaned in affecting some ear smoochies finishing with a whisper. "I want more and more and never want it to end."
"Mmmmm, wow," Rue closed her eyes enjoying the attention, "and that's a bad thing?" Then returned the advances playing at her lips.
"Yes," she exhaled dispirited, "a big very bad."
"So be bad." She coaxed between nibbles advancing to heat things up, "Let big bad Willow out to play."
"I can't." She clutched at her dreamily, the division lines beginning to blur.
Rue was far from convinced. "Yes, you can." She kissed her hard and deep, "I can take her on."
Willow began to let go, relax when suddenly flashes of last night struck her like a brick. The terrible, horrible things she did. "I can't! No." She said chilled, snapping out of it and pulling away.
"I'm sorry." Rue wasn't sure what just happened. "I was--"
Willow sat up pulling her knees in, hugging them close, "It's okay." She said trying to compose herself, "I'm sorry. It's not you, it's not this. It's all me. I can't think about it. I just can't lose control of that side of myself."
Long moments passed and finally Rue said in a quiet voice, "I *can* handle it... you." She passed a sympathetic eye over her loved one, "I've been with you at your darkest. Seven years..." her eyes glazed over, "...and I never stopped being there ... for you." Strong fingers began stroking Willow's leg softly. "You don't ever need to hold back on me you know."
Willow sighed. "I can only imagine what she put you through. I don't ever want to be like that." She attested with determined pout.
"You could never be like that." The fingers wrapped tightly around her thigh with a squeeze.
"Yes, I can." She nodded. "I was completely tripped. I let it take control, making myself, and everyone including you, vulnerable. Do you remember last night?"
Rue collapsed back into her pillow screwing up her face attempting to recall, "I don't... not much."
"Last night was bad." She informed.
"Running, I remember running and people in the woods... and screams in my head."
"People died last night." Her sad eyes drilled into her, "Innocent people."
"I-Innocent? No." She shook her head and furrowed her brow not wanting to believe it. Not wanting to hear the words. Then tried to justify it, "You were being hurt. Trying to kill you."
"They were being controlled. It wasn't them, it was the demon." She explained with a heavy heart.
Rue closed her troubled eyes her voice cracking, "I-I didn't know." Then played at her eyebrow agitatedly.
"I know." She choked back her own tears. "We all fucked up last night."
Opening her eyes she watched the droplets slowly cascade down her partner's cheeks and moved in to comfort her but was stayed off.
"I lost control, gave in to the power and the magic. I wanted to hurt people." She admitted freely.
Distressed over the outpour of emotion she moved closer. "It's okay."
But Willow was becoming highly agitated, ill at ease with the feelings, "I wanted them dead and I did it."
Rue wrapped her arms around her tenderly. "Shhh, I know."
"No, I enjoyed it." She hiccuped thoroughly ashamed.
"I understand." And Rue did, because she felt the same way every time she shifted. "I'm there, but it's okay."
"No, it's not!" Her voice broke and she openly sobbed, "I can't do that again, EVER. I don't know if I can live with myself -- what I did."
"Shhh, it's okay." She consoled aware of the frustration and fear as she herself had been down this road ages ago. "It gets easier."
"Oh Goddess, no. Bec, no." Willow was appalled. That was so wrong, so twisted. "Please, don't say that. Never again. You, you have to promise me you won't anymore ..." She clutched at her desperate for the violence to stop.
"You know I'll do anything in my power for you but I won't let anyone hurt you."
"No, no more." Willow was nearing hysterics. "You can't kill anymore. Promise me."
"I-I..." Rue was conflicted in her duty.
"Promise me!" She ordered.
"I promise," popped out automatically to soothe her lover. "I promise. I promise, just hush now and calm yourself." She was unaccustomed to Willow being like this and ill equipped to deal with it. She didn't know what to do so she just held her and stoked her letting all the babble and blub spill out until the spring was dry and the only thing left was a quietly sniffing red Willowface. "Better?"
She shook her head. "It'll never be better." Then sighed. "I need you to help me, keep on track. No more magic. For any reasons. I mean it. I can't slip. If I do, it could hurt us, *all* of us."
Rue nodded. "I understand. You can count on me, always."
Willow leaned into her laying a weary yet satisfied head on her chest. "I know."
* * * * * * * * * *
Xander sat on his sofa, feet up, munching a piece of peanut butter toast. He was much broodylike to the point of not enjoying his stories as his heart still weighed heavy over last night and the brutality that seemed to overcome everyone. The face shared by those poor people haunted his sleep as did seeing Rue take them out. But even more disturbing was the fact that since she and Wil had hooked up he had the uncanny feeling he knew Becca from somewhere as she sure knew him--but from that other reality. He thought for a long moment then his brain made a reach. What if? If realities were similar, how similar were the two? They were friends, he guessed, maybe...? She didn't seem to know Buffy so, it's most likely she never moved to SunnyD or... never made it there. Maybe then, just maybe, he, Wil and Rue were *there*, like he, Wil and Buffy are *now*... Only in that reality? Did that make sense? Yes, and no. He got up from the sofa and his morning infusion of Looney Tunes and headed for his bedroom. Wil and Rue were an item in that reality obviously, so did Oz or Tara even come into play? Who could tell with Oz, but Tara, knowing what he did of her family, probably not. And no Buffy equaled no Dawnie.
Opening the closet he dug around through some boxes. He was happy he finally decided to make that trip back to his parents basement and cleared out the last of his stuff, he wasn't interested in making a trip over there at this time of year, his Mom would never let him leave, talk his ear off and ice that cake by bursting into tears. And his dad, well... he shuddered, don't even go there. He found the box he was looking for, at the bottom of everything, of course. The box was marked in a couple of different handwriting styles. 'NOT IMPORTANT' was clearly visible in bold red letters as written by Anya. The 'NOT' crossed out in green indelible marker by Willow's hand who added 'Childhood Memories'. And finally a black 'X' Buffy had marked everything Xander's that needed to be removed from the basement that day.
He put the box on the bed and opened the top. Inside were a multitude of books. He began unpacking them and sorting them into different stacks. Placing the empty box on the floor he dropped a few of the stacks back into it and rearranged the remainder on the bed, they were his elementary and highschool year books. He tried to remember back, the last few years leading up to the razing of the highschool. The student body had become fairly close. He still saw some around, but most had continued on with their lives trying to strive for normalcy, or simply achieve a as normal as possible outcome to growing up on a Hellmouth by going away to college, the military, etc., putting squarely the tragedy and weirdness behind them.
He put the senior through freshman books aside and opened the eighth year book but he didn't expect to find much in that. He was correct. Skipping about he picked up his sixth year elementary book. Thumbing through it he abruptly stopped. There it was, Rebecca's picture. He continued scanning the pages, then he came across it. He wracked his brain and vaguely remembered something, he thought, but wasn't sure. He, Wil and Jesse were very tight and very self absorbed during that time creating their own little geeker clique to shelter them from the onslaught of abuse by the jocks, the cools, the punks and any other group who'd rise up and claim bully status. He continued his search through the earlier books making mental notes then stuck a bookmark into place on number six and put it on the dresser. Wil would definitely find this interesting.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sheila Rosenberg stood on the porch of a well manicured home.
A trim woman with short hair answered the door. "Yes, can I help you?"
"Kerri? Kerri Sloane? I don't know if you remember me. Sheila Rosenberg from Sunnydale."
Recognition escaped her. "I haven't lived in Sunnydale for many years since..."
"I know. May I come in? I've got something of great importance to discuss with you."
* * * * * * * * * *
After their bout of early morning anxiety Willow avowed they should start the day anew, but the morning was dragging as she attempted to allay her fears, immersing herself in her textbooks to strive for normalcy and proscribing Becca spend the rest of the day quiet to continue her healing processes.
Becca adored downtime with Willow, any time with Willow all to herself was bliss, but Willow was busied and ignoring her. She had tried to be helpful but was assured there was nothing she could do. Then she just tried to be close, but between laptop and books and notes there was no getting close, so she went into shut down mode to wait but Willow didn't like it when she did that. So, after she had done everything there was to do in the room, twice, including nap and nothing, she was completely buggin' for distraction. Finally, timidly, leaning in to see what Willow was reading she announced. "I've read that book. The ending sucks." Scanning the page she continued, "Nothing good on that page either."
"Oh, you read it?" Willow retorted smirk faced, voice dripping with disbelief.
The girl nodded her head simply.
She closed the book, "What's it say?"
"Where are you?"
She held the book so Becca couldn't see the pages, "Beginning of the second paragraph."
"The socioeconomic ramifications of moving into the twentieth century strained the relationships of many followers of the faith but..."
Willow tossed her a queer glance as she rattled off the text then looked down to check if she were correct or not. She was. 'Wait,' she thought. 'I just read that, probably heard my thoughts, didn't know I was projecting.' She flipped ahead to a chapter she hadn't read and picked a page at random, "Page two hundred forty-seven, fourth paragraph."
Becca blinked then began. "The witch movement today is once again branching out in ever increasing numbers as new--"
She followed along impressed then interrupted, "Bec, do you have a photographic memory or something?"
She nodded her head. "Or something." Then scratched at her eyebrow.
Willow's brow furrowed, she had seen her do this more times than she could count. Raising her hand she gently, inquisitively touched the girl's eyebrow.
The girl who unwaveringly stood in the face of danger for her flinched, closed her eye and jerked her head away.
'That was definitely odd.' "Sweetie?" She sang in calm tones, green eyes assuring.
But Becca returned a fearful conflicted gaze.
Testing, Willow raised her hand again and stroked her forehead.
Instinctively her eyes drew tight, she twitched and screwed up her face as if Willow were hurting her.
"Shhhh, its okay." She put the book down and took her face in her hands, "Look at me. What happened with your face? You always scratch your eyebrow when you're uncertain or troubled. Did someone do something to your face?"
Becca refused to meet her gaze.
Which made her all the more suspicious. "Look at me." She ordered. "Did *I* do something to your face?"
She was reluctant to answer but the abrupt change in expression said it all.
"What did *she* do?"
But Becca didn't want to say. She chewed on her lip and again tried to clutch at her brow.
Willow blocked her taking her hand, "Bec, baby, you know I'm not her."
"I know." She replied sheepishly averting her eyes again.
"Look at me, I can't help you if you don't tell me."
She remained quiet for a moment contemplating then exhaled a big breath, "Metal. Something metal... nail... or-or rod, something metal," she tapped her brow repeatedly.
Willow exhibited shock face. "Into your head?"
Becca nodded.
"She drilled into your head? Oh, sweet Goddess." Horrified she closed her eyes, the thought utterly repugnant and nauseating.
"It worked." A chipper voice hailed.
"Worked?" She shot back perplexed opening her eyes to meet a wide eyed innocent gaze.
Rue nodded, "I don't forget the books, or the maps." Then tapped her head. "All in here for the long stay."
Willow drifted away she could only wonder what her counterpart was trying to do. Was she actually attempting to achieve something, performing a surgery or just torturing the girl for her own sick twisted pleasure? She'd have to check some medical references later.
"...Made them come too. I don't like them. I don't wanna see them." The girl pouted.
"What?" She snapped back to now.
Becca hid her face in Willow's shoulder. "So horrible."
"What is?"
"The ghost people." Agitated she tried to change the subject. "Can we do something?"
"No." Willow pulled her up to stare into her dark eyes again. "Ghosts? You see ghosts?"
She nodded. "I guess. I dunno. I try real hard, I do, to ignore it. But they're everywhere. Places you don't expect, like Buffy's Mom in the living room just sitting there staring." She closed her eyes with a cringe and shivered.
Willow froze attempting to process the data; rationalize her counterpart. The photographic memory she could understand as useful but why would her evil self want someone who could see spirits? Or was this an unexpected side effect? Like Alice through the looking glass this was curiouser and curiouser. Or rather, like a William Burroughs wonderland trip more fucked up than one person should be allowed and still turn out normal.
* * * * * * * * * *
That afternoon at the Magic Box after what seemed like many hours of research and constant Anya nattering, Buffy and Dawn decided on a much needed book break.
In three moves Dawn hauled off and took Buffy to the floor.
"What the?" Buffy groaned from the mat.
"Oh my God," She croaked wide eyed raising her hands to her face in alarm. They didn't know who was more surprised. She gaped at her hands, grinned evilly realizing what she had actually just done then jumped up and down triumphantly, "YES! Yes! Yes!"
"Where did you learn that?" Buffy asked disparaging rubbing her back.
At that moment Willow entered the training room with Rue. "Hey guys."
"Becca!" Dawn called excitedly.
Buffy closed her eyes, "My first guess."
"What?" She asked staring at the highly effervescent girl.
"I just *kicked* Buffy's ass." She bubbled.
"Oh?" She sniggered.
"Excuse me?" Buffy corrected, "Knocked me on my ass with a low blow is more like it." She got up and went over to the girlfriend who was unpacking Willow's gear. "What are you teaching my sister?"
"How to win." She replied flatly.
Buffy folded her arms, "With low blows and cheap shots?"
"If that's what it takes." She faced her off, "I've never met anyone who played fair when their life was at stake." Then twirled a stake to emphasize her point.
Buffy shook her head and marched over to her bag to release some frustration.
Willow followed her. "How was the search?"
Buffy shrugged. "Now that we have a name we've got plenty of info. All saying the same thing. He's bad and he's not going anywhere, so..."
"Yeah, I got some leads to follow up on, hopefully we can discover the spell the warlock used."
"She looks okay this morning." Buffy offered changing the subject with a flip of her head.
"Yeah. Pretty much all better." Willow beamed. "Super healing, remember." Softly jabbing her best friend delighted to see a brighter less harsh-type attitude.
Buffy smiled a bit embarrassed. "I'm glad. How about you?"
"Pffft, what's a few more deaths and a wicked dark magic itch I can't scratch gonna do to my already tarnished permanent record?" They hugged.
"I'm on a roll." Dawn announced grabbing a stake from the wall. "Today is the day *I* stake *you*." She pointed at Rue still bouncy with ado.
"We'll see..." She half smiled.
"I wanna see this too." Willow announced returning to her side with a kiss before heading off to grand stand. She hadn't witnessed her spar yet so she was intrigued to know just what she might be capable of. "Don't embarrass her too much."
"Willow, don't jinx it." Dawn whined.
A shrug and a smile was her response.
Rue instructed Dawn to come at her. Holding the stake like a knife Dawn advanced striking down at her from above. Rue blocked it with a forearm, twisted the girl's arm away grabbing her forearm and pulled her in. Using her other arm she reached out and grabbed her securely by the neck. "Snap." She said, "You're dead." Dawn frowned discouraged. "Let's do it in slow motion and I'll show you what you did wrong." Dawn hoisted the stake again and Rue stopped her, "First, never hold the stake like that. It takes to long to come at me and you're leaving your body wide open, there's a hundred other ways I could stop you. Hold it like this." She repositioned the girl. "And strike from this angle." She showed her. "Better, now it's harder for me to block. Remember, if you can't kill your opponent on the first strike, always incapacitate them. The eyes are a good place to start."
"The eyes have it." Xander sounded just arriving. "And I's ready to rumble." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "But in this crowd I'll settle for tumble."
Buffy kept watch through her workout as Rue patiently reviewed some basics with them.
* * * * * * * * * *
Eventually it was do or die time.
"Okay, I'm gonna do this." Willow announced building her own confidence.
Rue could sense her nervousness. "You don't have to if you don't want to."
"I said I would and I'm gonna do this." She exhaled. Raising her sword she took a run at her opponent, swung, and off went its head.
"Um, okay that was good." Rue said hinting at encouraging.
Willow pouted at her disappointed reaction. "You have but-face."
She affected a crooked smile not wanting to criticize but was left with no choice. "Can we try one with our eyes open? The eyes really need to be open when we do that or our head might just go pffft."
"Okay, sure." Willow nodded abashed. "I just didn't want to get blood, er, straw in my eye."
Rue snorted. She was so cute in her efforts at fearlessness.
Raising her brow she leaned on her sword admitting, "I'm hopeless, I know."
"No, no you're not." Rue stepped in with a big hug of encouragement.
* * * * * * * * * *
Continuing her workout on the bag Buffy tossed a sideways glance at her pals every so often. So far, from what she saw, Rue's tutelage was, for the most part, accurate and well disciplined but something was amiss between the laughter and jokes and the hollow wooden thokage versus loud metal clangage.
Taking a breather she watched the interactions. Rue readily sparred with Dawn and Xander raising a sword or a stake, connecting with theirs and feigning attacks, holding her weapon to their vulnerable spots when they were left exposed, then chastising and re-instructing. But with Willow she did not take up a weapon. She framed her, holding her arms, guiding them as Willow initiated loving distractions, positioned her at the proper angles, even stood in front of her as a target, but all unarmed.
Buffy's brain began to wander. "You're pretty good at that." She said retrieving her towel, trying to make conversation but Rue didn't respond. "Why don't you put a few hits on Willow and see if she can counter them?" She turned to Dawn and held out her hand. Dawn handed her her stake and Buffy offered it to Rue.
"She's not ready yet." Came a simple reply.
"Nonsense. Wil's used swords lots of times plus she's got the advantage against this little number" She pushed it at her again.
Willow raised a finger. "Correction, *had* swords plenty of times but mostly got knocked on my ass before I could busta anything, much less a move."
"Now's your chance to shine." She commented with a cheeky smile taking Rue's hand and forcing the stake into it then raising her arms in a gesture for her to proceed.
"Okay, You're the boss." Willow agreed hefting her sword one more time. "As long as you realize this is comical in that "America's Funniest Home Fatalities" show kinda way."
Buffy watched Rue's features twist as she stood deliberating. Suddenly she turned. "You're the authority here. You should lead the demo. I'm the one you come to for low blows and cheap shots, remember?" She flipped the stake at her, it stuck in the floorboard near her foot, and she walked over to the couch taking a seat.
"No, it's okay." Buffy softened. "Maybe you're right."
A quizzical look passed amongst the Scoobies.
Willow moved to Rue's side trading the sword for her squirty bottle in her gym bag.
"Oh, by the way, here's your knife." Without warning Buffy pulled a blade from behind her back and whipped it at Willow's head. Rue leaned up catching it without hesitation eyeing her evilly.
"What the?" Willow spat, water spraying everywhere, startled by the blade looming inches from her face.
"Buffy?" Xander protested his heart skipping a precious beat.
Rue stood and stroked Willow's shoulder, eyes glued on her. "Thanks. I thought it was gone for good." She snarled yet kept her cool keeping her promise.
"Where'd you get it?" Buffy demanded her somewhat unorthodox tactics falling short on the girl.
"I brought it with me." She vagued.
"Bec, how did you get the knife?" Willow clarified Buffy's question equally interested.
But, "I took it from the Slayer." Was all that was offered up.
"Isn't that Faith's knife?" Xander chimed in with a point of his finger moving closer to check it out for the first time.
Rue looked about face tightening. "You know the Slayer--the other Slayer here too?"
"Yeah, sure." He offered openly, "It's kind of an interesting story, the whole Buffy/Faith thing."
She sneered a gloaty sneer and merrily punched him in the shoulder.
"Ow." He sounded at the friendly tap that felt more like a crushing blow to him.
"Any story where she dies I'm wanting to hear."
She didn't know.
"Boy, she was something." He waxed rubbing his shoulder not listening. "The original bad girl. She and Buffy, like night and day. Oil and vinegar. Right up until the end. She could rock your world. Oh, she was hot, red hot. I once saw her take out a whole nest of vamps--"
"What?!" She cut him off, his words burning her soul. Brimming over unable to keep her cool she angrily stuck the knife into the wall with a roar.
Her words suddenly penetrated his mental happy but it was too late. "Wait, dead? But she's--" He attempted only to be pushed backward as she stormed off. He watched her leave slamming the door behind her. "Did I say something wrong?" He appealed to the group.
"Yeah." Buffy said flatly.
"Okaaaay. Clue?" He implored looking to each of the girls.
"She's not a Faith fan." Willow finally offered.
"That makes two of us." Dawn added with a nose crinkle folding her arms.
Buffy tried to clear the haze for him a bit. "Xander, when she said, 'took the knife from the Slayer,' did you really think Faith just let her have it?"
"Well, no... Oh." The light winked on in his mind.
Dawn had crossed over to the couch and was now tugging fiercely at the knife. "This is not coming out of the wall." She announced.
He furrowed his brow in contemplation. "So you really think she offed Faith where she came from?"
"If not her then Willow probably did." Buffy pondered.
"So, should we tell her Faith's still alive?" Dawn asked tiring of her fruitless effort.
"Not if we want everything to remain..." Buffy began to be joined by Willow, who in unison answered. "Five by five."
* * * * * * * * * *
Rue sat in the nook all glower faced since she emerged from the training room spitting fire and brimstone. Anya grabbed a duster and casually made her way over curious about her usually subdued employee's sudden mood alteration. "Did the training session break up already?" She asked feigning nonchalantly.
Rue didn't answer.
"Don't let her get you down." She said furrowing her brow at Rue's disturbed expression. "She can be a right bitch when she wants. All that look at me, I'm the Slayer. Yadda-yadda, I'm chosen and your not. It can be right down depressing."
"It's not Buffy." She replied with a wave of the hand not wanting to get into it right this moment.
"Oh, that's a change of the good. So what's with the face then?" She chirruped starved for gossip.
Rue looked into Anya's lively eyes. She'd been around for a very long time, Rue knew this from the daily recounts of her activities as a demon. Maybe she could help with what was truly on her mind. "It's this." She gestured about.
"The shop?" Anya grimaced getting defensive. "You don't have to work here you know. I'm only letting you do the heavy work as a favor to Willow."
"No," Rue shook her head, "This-this. The magic this. It's hurting Willow. She's promised to stop, but--"
"If you don't trust Willow--" She shrugged.
"I trust Willow." She assured emphatically. "Willow doesn't trust Willow."
Anya nodded fully comprehending. "Yeah, the dark gods know we've been through this all before."
Rue blinked clueless, "You... have?"
She sounded so surprised it caught Anya off guard. "Yes, didn't Wil--no I guess not."
"The magic is hard for her?" She cocked her head inquisitively.
"No, that's the problem. The magic is too easy for her so she tends to abuse it. There's also her little control freak issue but we won't discuss that here."
Rue thought for a moment. "So, if I can make it not so easy, then maybe that would... help her?"
Anya pursed her lips and nodded imparting. "Take the bottle out of the drunk's hand they can't drink."
"But what can I do?" She appealed. "The magic stuff *I* know doesn't cover anything like this ... just ripping worlds asunder and general mayhem."
"Sheesh, you people don't ever start small do you?" She groused with a disgusted shake of her head.
"Are there any spells or charms to help make her stop...but won't hurt her?" She asked forthright.
"Oh, yes, of course, there are hundreds of binding spells and dampening objects. Problem is Willow knows a really lot of them, or is already strong enough to counter or nullify them completely." Anya thought. Then thought some more. "The Devil's Cuff." She finally said.
"Devil?" Rue cast her an apprehensive glance not liking the sound of it.
"Yes, that's what the mortals call it. Always with the flair for the dramatic. It's actually a Prangeyleon bracelet. It literally siphons off all magic that the wearer comes in contact with."
Rue's face brightened at the words and she was eager to know more. "So if they try to cast a spell?"
"Can't."
"And what if they get attacked? Say, someone lobs a magic bolt?"
"Made inactive and harmlessly absorbed." She assured.
Rue was elated. "Sounds great. Do we have one?"
* * * * * * * * * *
"Oh boy, I don't know if I can live through more show and tell today, Buffy." Willow announced reluctantly.
The three had adjourned to the couch after sending Dawn on a diversionary Chinese take-out errand. Buffy held up a stack of Polaroid's. "These were in her pocket when I emptied the jacket. I thought it best you see them."
Willow took them and began flipping though one by one, "Yeah, I could see how you would--" What she saw stopped her dead, her eyes growing wide. "Oh..."
"--Be forced to use big words like trepidatious in my sentences to emphasize that she's scare-me dangerous." Finished Buffy.
And even wider on the next, "...kaaay."
"Sweet." Xander commented cringing at the images.
"Before it would have sent me on a full blown wiggins." She divulged honestly.
"But now?"
"Concern. Deep concern. See, furrowed brow and lip extended pouty style." She took one of the pictures and held it up. "This person is still *your* person. She hasn't gone anywhere. We need to make sure she doesn't make any surprise appearances."
Willow stayed silent staring at the photographs, again Bec had not withheld this information. She had been open and honest, it was she who closed her mind to the truth, softening it to rationalize the kind, devoted, gentle soul she knew.
But the blood soaked torturer in the pictures was her too. Her under *her* control, under *her* influence, or rather the other her. Bec would do anything for her--both of her, including kill. She realized that, she'd seen it first hand now. Only she didn't ask for anything except to be there for her, but it was all to clear her counterpart did and often. When she could get her to speak of such things, she could see her inner struggle, feel her regret at what she had done, but it was what made her--her counterpart, happy. Kill that person was just another order, a task, as if she had been asked to get a glass of juice from the refrigerator. No, the girl wasn't evil, Willow was resolute in her belief, she just did evil things to please the one she loved, *her*--the *other her*. Willow's head suddenly hurt. "She won't." She guaranteed.
"She did last night." Buffy reminded needlessly.
"We all made horrible mistakes last night." Willow defended with a twinge of sadness.
"Yeah, Buff, don't single her out." Xander said fidgety. "Our footnotes deserve equal attention with the fluorescent pink hi-liter for the Scooby Diary Cliff Notes."
"Fair enough." She looked at them sullen. Then turned to Willow the serious tingeing her voice, "How's it with the first day of no *big* magic?" As if she didn't know.
"Feels like I have ants under my skin most of the time when I'm not busy."
She placed a steady and on her shoulder. "Hang in there."
"Like the kitty on the limb." She joked raising her hands to imitate the poster, "With both paws."
"And how's Becca with all this?"
"She's my rock." Willow smiled inside.
"You sure she's not gonna crumble under pressure? I mean, from what you've said she seems sensitive to the dark stuff too and the demon has already gotten control of her through you once. It's always a possibility again."
Buffy's not so subtle reminder irritated her. "So are cavities that doesn't mean I'll live in fear of getting one."
"So not the same."
"Buffy, what do you want me to do? Me, of all people, knows how serious this is. And the last thing I want to do is drag any of you into Hell with me."
Xander stopped her, "Okay, Wil, you're not dragging anyone anywhere. And as long as we keep you safe Becca's not going all supernatural predilectiony, right?"
"Oh, see," Buffy jumped in, "now he's all with the big words too. It's an epidemic." They laughed then Buffy abruptly changed the subject. "Xander, why don't you see if Dawn's actually placed that order."
He turned to look at her funny then caught the meaning in her eye. "Bu--" He began a protest.
But she interrupted him. "Or you can stay and be just one of the girls as we make with the overmuch descriptive girlie talk."
"No-no!" He found himself blurting out. He didn't even need to think that offer over and before he knew it instinct and reflexes engaged and he was standing. "Pass. I'll just check on Dawn, like you suggested. Give her a hand."
Buffy waited as Xander exited the training room then finished "Wil, it's not just Becca either now. I'm worried about Anya too."
"Anya?" That was the last thing Willow ever expected to come out of Buffy's mouth.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I think you should leave now." Mrs. Sloane was visibly agitated.
"I know this is upsetting. I'm sorry."
"Please, leave my house." She ordered.
"I can't imagine how this sounds but just listen." Sheila appealed.
"Leave now." Kerri pushed her to the door.
"Keep the picture. My info is on the back if you change your mind." She said as the door was promptly closed in her face.
* * * * * * * * * *
Rue took the Devil's Cuff and twirled it about examining it, "What's it made of?"
Anya came up behind her and folded her arms, "Some kind of basal mineral, I think. Either that, or demon poo."
Rue dropped the bracelet on the table.
"You got my joke." She smiled smugly and clapped cheering herself on, "That was a joke. I'm getting better at humor aren't I?"
"Oh yeah, much better." Rue was not amused.
Anya picked it up. "It's not very pretty or fashionable if you ask me, but it'll do the job all right. One hundred dollars. That's the cheapest I can go on that."
Rue's mouth fell open. "You're gonna charge me?"
"Hello, these aren't made in Taiwan." She informed snidely. "In fact I don't think they're made at all anymore. Core diving trolls haven't been heard of in..." She gave it a good think to no avail. "Well, they were bordering on myth when I was young."
"That's just not fair. You know Willow needs that." Rue argued.
"You wanna talk fair, tell Willow to pay me for destroying this place, not once but *twice* now. *And* for all the stuff she pilfers for Buffy's spells. This isn't Goodwill. It's a business. So, one hundred dollars is fair. Normally I'd charge way more to the average unsuspecting consumer but, after all, you are my friend." Anya admitted.
Rue cocked her head throwing surprise face at her, "Me? Friend?"
"Yes, Frankenstein, you, friend." She aped.
"But you hate me."
"I never said I hated you."
"Yes, you did." She rebuffed.
"No, I said dislike." Anya clarified, "They're two totally different things."
"Oh." Rue said still confused, "I, uh... never had any real friends... well, when I was twelve, but not since." Reaching into her pocket she rummaged around. "This was my only friend." And pulled out an object. "I thought everything was gone but Willow found it and gave it back to me." Holding it aloft for Anya to see.
Anya took one look at it and hit the roof. "Get rid of it! Put it away! Are you fucking crazy?!"
Rue didn't understand and looked at it, it was just a dirty cloth doll, "It's a doll, just a toy." She held it out, "Mister Doogie." Waving it at her inoffensively.
Anya screamed in terror, the type of scream that hones in on your spinal cord and shoots down it like barbed wire then turns around, shoots up again and makes you clench your teeth. The sound echoed about the Magic Box like nails on a chalkboard taking Becca quite by surprise.
"Put it away NOW!" Anya shrieked near hysterical.
"Okay." She stuffed the toy back into her pocket. "It's back in my pocket."
"Don't take that out again--EVER!" She ordered holding herself tight and chewing on her thumb nail.
"I won't, sheesh."
"How dare you bring a bunny in here." She scolded.
"What are you mental? It wasn't real." Becca defended.
But Anya persisted, "It was a bunny."
"It was a toy." Becca declared.
"A bunny!"
"A toy."
"Bunny."
"It was a bunny toy." Becca argued.
"Still a bunny!" Anya's pitch increased.
"Okay!" Becca relented. "So, you have a morbid fear of--"
"Don't even say it!" She shivered, "Yes."
"I didn't know." She asserted. There was an awkward silence then, "You're a grown woman--I mean, demon. How can you be afraid of--"
"AAAAHHH! NO! AH!" Anya gripped tight her ears, "Llalallalallalalalalaa."
"Okay!" Becca screamed. After a moment she started to giggle, the giggles turned into laughter.
"Are you laughing at me?" She crossed over and slapped at the girl. "Don't laugh at me."
Becca threw her arm up defensively at the assault, "I'm not." She continued to laugh, "I thought I was fucked up."
"Yeah? Well, wait till someone pulls your greatest fear out of their pocket and waves it at you all nonchalanty." She mimicked.
Becca suddenly became silent and broodylike, "That wouldn't be a good thing."
"You're darn tootin'." Anya paced back and forth, "Shit, look at that." She held out her hands, they were visibly shaking. "What were we talking about?" She asked trying to clear her mind.
"How you hate me." Becca said plainly.
Anya shot daggers at her, clenched her fists, turned, and fuming grabbed the stapler next to the cash register, "I don't hate you!" Then threw it at her head, "but keep it up..."
At that moment Buffy and Willow emerged from the training room to see what the commotion was about as Xander returned from the Chinese take-out with Dawn carrying two big boxes. They set them down on the research table. "What a concept. Wok Inn, Take out." He grinned goofily.
"Are you done pun-ishing me yet?" Dawn asked with a roll of her eyes.
"Anya? Becca?" Buffy called. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Anya answered grumpily picking up the stapler and slapping at Becca some more. "Food's here. Just... eat your food."
"Ooookay..." Buffy replied making eye contact with Willow at the new strangeness.
"Oh, Wil, I have something you should see." Xander began as he unpacked the paper cartons.
"Whoa, not you too?" Willow clutched at her temples, "If I hear that phrase from one more person today I'm not to be held responsible for my actions."
Xander lead her into the stack room and sat her down. Rifling in his carryall he pulled out the yearbook. "Look what I found." He said proudly, gesturing for her to open to the page he had marked with a Post-it.
Willow looked. It was a picture of Becca. She looked back to Xander who was smiling so sincere and debated over telling him. "Um, Xander, me and Bec kinda--"
He halted her, the look on her face said it all. "You knew."
She nodded her head.
"Well, you could tell a guy. I've been going crazy with the déjà vu since she got here."
"Sorry, I fully intended to tell you, we just got distracted and I forgot."
"It's so weird though," he rubbed his chin, "because I don't remember any kind of funeral. I didn't even remember this."
Willow eyed him funny, "What?"
"The funeral. It would have been quick and all but I don't remember it. Do you remember your Mom going?"
Willow opened the book again and studied it. It was a memoriam page. "So she's dead?"
He cocked his head perplexed. "You said you knew."
Willow's brow raised, "We found her pictured in another book, so I knew she was part of this world and went to Sunnydale Elementary but I--we, didn't know she died."
"So you never checked to see if there was possibly another her running around here to bump into or confuse into the mix?" He shot her a look of concern, usually Willow was a step ahead of him and he was the one playing catch-up boy. "Does Buffy know?"
Willow crinkled her nose, opened her mouth then closed it again and just shook her head, no.
* * * * * * * * * *
Xander blindly entered the shower room, a fluffy towel over his eyes wiping at his sweat streaked face. Buffy was pushing everyone awfully hard all of a sudden. His muscles were stiff and he was still sore from his aggravated injuries and feeling so not like one hundred percent. Lowering the towel he wiped at his neck, glanced up then stopped in his tracks.
There she was taking a shower, her back to him.
Time passed as he stared in fascination. The injuries were well healed now but the artwork, if you could call it that, remained. He found himself repulsed yet intrigued and was completely engrossed in its design, so much so it didn't occur to him he was watching her naked, bathing-like, in the shower, all sudsy and... Until she turned and spoke to him, "Xander." Breaking the mesmer.
He quickly covered his eyes and turned his back, "Sorry, so sorry..." His mind swirled, went blank and to his horror he found himself unexpectedly blurting out, "...I thought you were Buffy."
"Buffy lets you watch her shower?" She smiled coyly sounding impressed. "Maybe she's not as prudish as I thought."
Fire engine red became him as he realized she must have sensed him there long before she said anything. How could she not with her enhanced senses? So, why didn't she do the normal freakbout girly dealy and toss a shampoo bottle at his invading manly personage? "No, oh no," he stammered feeling all thumbs, "I-I--" But before he could finish he got his answer.
"Alexander, it's okay." Dark intense eyes assured, then a lowered voice enticed. "I don't mind if you watch."
'Oh God.' He swallowed hard yet kept his hand firmly over his eyes. He had had a recurring dream since highschool that started with that same sentence and ended... Well, usually ended with his Mom screaming at him from the kitchen to get his lazy f-ing ass out of bed and go to school. But sometimes ended... 'No no no no. Mustn't have those thoughts.' He wrestled with his mind to keep control and not let anything suddenly make a sudden move and turn this into a more embarrassing, humiliating-type situation. "You called me Alexander." He exclaimed like puberty boy shifting gears on his thought train. "You did that before too, at The Bronze."
"It is your name isn't it?" She questioned.
"Yes, but no one calls me that, only my parents...when they're angry...and plastered."
"Okay then."
He turned towards her but kept the hand over his eyes. "Where you're from, did we... *know* one another?"
"Yes, we did." She smiled, "Quite well as a matter of fact."
This piqued his interest, "Oh?" He opened his fingers a bit and peeped out, "So ahh--"
"It was Willow and me and you." She offered through lathering.
Ah-ha, he knew it and moved his hand to his forehead then gestured, "Was I a--"
"A vampire?" She finished. "Yes. We were large and in charge in Sunnydale. Well, and a whole bunch more actually."
"Wow, that must have been something." He mused.
"It was good. For the most part." Squeezing her scrubby she held it out. "Since you're here, can you get my back?"
"Wha-whaa--" He stammered. 'Oh God, the dream again. No, this isn't happening. I'm still home asleep in my bed hepped up on antibiotics. That's it.'
"Back, please." She tossed it at him continuing. "Willow took good care of us and we her."
The scrubby hit him in the chest leaving a damp sudsy circle on his shirt. Hesitantly he took it and advanced. She turned and there was the artwork again. A constant reminder. Brushing her hair aside he took in her defined athletic curves. A perfect combination of softness and strength enveloped in silky, glisteny shades of pale.
"Everything was fine with our little family till someone got greedy and over stepped. Yep, all fine till *she* came along."
He touched the scrubby to her back guiding it gently across the Willowscript.
"Harder." She ordered.
He jumped slightly but obliged applying more pressure. "Uh, she?"
"Faith."
His interest grew.
"You knew what she'd do." She teased splashing him. "You knew she wouldn't roll over like a good kitty." With lightning speed she snatched him by the neck, her tone changing, face contorting. His heart skipped a beat, breath catching in his constricted throat. There she was scary Rue. Angry, unhappy Rue. "You knew." She growled inches from his face pressing her body against his.
"B-b-becca, not me." He cried out in fear finding his arms shooting out to grab her by the waist to push her away. "I'm Xander, not Alexander. Different universe, non-threatening-type, fragile-necked, human Xander."
"What in the fourth dimension of Hell is going on here?" Anya's shrill voice echoed around the room upon seeing the two embracing in the shower.
Rue continued unfazed. "You two planned the whole thing. But you'd never see it, cause--"
"Xander!" Anya barked.
That got his attention. His head snapped about instinctively yet strangely he couldn't decide whose wrath he feared more.
She continued to make a stink, "I knew it, you are such a liar. If I live to be five thousand, I will never understand you men? Not interested in a female who wants it, ooooh no. Gotta go after the lesbian. Raise the challenge bar and the hornage level. That boos your Y ego? You're pathetic. Where's Willow?" She turned on her heel heading back out to the front. "Willow!"
Rue jerked his head back about hard and whispered into his ear, her hot breath chilling his blood. "--Oops, you died." She then pulled away, smiled innocuously and took her scrubby with a cheery, "Thanks," before heading off to the locker area to dress.
He stood there sticky wet from her body and sheer fright. Long moments passed then finally he inhaled sharply realizing he was still holding his breath in his panic. Anya's distant incensed clucking finally roused him, unfreezing his fear induced limbs. His mind raced at her threatening revelation. He was totally confused, was she really angry at him or was this a sport? Just how stable was she? Should he continue to press her for info? No, not now. Now he'd have to rebuff Anya in front of everyone. "Anya! Ahn, no. It's not what you think. Don't go all-- Willow!"
* * * * * * * * * *
To be continued in Chapter 8
SUMMARY: It's the morning after and everyone has gotta deal with it in their own way. We've also still got a lot to reveal.... Oh, Rue! Poor, poor Xander...
WARNING: Angst, language, slanguage and general wackiness.
____________________________________________________________
Love And Darkness And My Crossbow
by Eris © 2002 -- All rights reserved.
Chapter Seven: Balancing Act
In the morning despite all her efforts, Buffy couldn't sleep. The sun was brightly shining, the birds were happily singing and outwardly, it looked to be another perfect winters day in Sunnydale. But inside, it looked more like Halloween night at Freddy Kruger's as she made her way down the stairs to the semi-clean, yet mostly still dirty-type kitchen. Nabbing a bowl and spoon, milk and cereal, she sat down to a light breakfast amid the dried blood and ruination totally losing herself back in Zoneland.
Zoning and munching, crunching and zoning her eyes eventually happened upon the remnants of Becca's duster lying next to the counter on the linoleum. Knowingly she glanced ceilingward. 'They're gonna be occupied for eternity upstairs.' Then eyed it again as she chewed. It had seen its last day, tattered and torn in spots, scuffed and stained here and there, now cut to pieces and riddled with holes, yet still accustomed to its wearer, it partially retained its shape. 'If you could speak I wonder what stories you'd tell.' Its final story had been written last night out in the woods with her sister. Protecting her. Again. Three times now she had put her life on the line and not once did she thank her, only accused her of the harm, pissing Willow off big time with her distrust. As it turned out, Becca wasn't the big master mind behind the emerald curtain after all, just another misfit like the rest of them. So, it seemed apology girl would have to suck-it-up, dispense a meat basket or two and some good old fashioned hatchet burying sorrys. Hopefully it wasn't too late and she wouldn't turn around and take a swipe at her with it. She sighed. Furthermore, today, it was finally time. Time to seriously reconsidered Dawn's incessant request to be trained. Assuming they weren't out of time. After last night's attack and the revelation she and Wil were targets, they all had better take a refresher, just in the case.
After a few more bites and an excess of mullage she decided the sooner the sooner. The sooner she started, the sooner she could enjoy the rest of Saturday. 'Yeah, right, *enjoy*.' Diving into still more reference books and training never conjugated enjoyment. 'Stupid warlock.' She pouted and abandoned her empty bowl to the sink, so with no prospect of returning to her comfy, cozy-type bed, she shook open a plastic trash bag and commenced with the clean up.
Beginning at the beginning she reached to remove the coat from its crumpled, blood-soaked pile, but it stuck to the floor, the blood solidifying it in place. Gripping it with two hands she jerked it loose, then noticed it was fairly heavy and the sleeve was somewhat rigid. There was something in it. Investigating she wasn't very surprised to remove a stiletto from its hiding place. 'Hm, what other surprises does Batman's utility belt hold?' Inspecting the collar she also found a choke wire.
Retrieving a piece of Tupperware from the shelf and placing it on the counter she dropped the items in then stuck her hand into one of the pockets and began emptying the contents. The first handful brought to light a roll of odd looking candies, a Pez dispenser and a variety of monies; crumpled bills and coins. Letting them fall to the box she reached in again. A Magic Eight Ball. Shaking it. The ball wizened, **Better not tell you now.** 'Figures, more with the cryptic from this one.' She rolled her eyes and continued. A yo-yo, string, and some smoke and cherry bombs. 'Lovely.' A superball and some jacks, jacks and more jacks. The last delve retrieved a single manacle. 'Okee, this I wanna hear.' She thought twirling it about before releasing it.
Exploring the other pocket revealed a Rubik's Cube, a small rag doll, a butane lighter, and a bottle of unmarked pills. 'The plot thickens.' Popping the top she peered at them and took a sniff. 'No clue.' Closed them up again and tossed them in with the other items. Sticking her hand in again she came up with a deck of cards, a wind up toy and... 'hm, something fuzzy at the bottom,' reaching deeper she snatched a hold of the fuzzy something and pulled it out. "Oh, gross." Promptly dropping it to the floor. It was a plump rat. She kicked at it. Make that a plump dead rat. "Sick." Then bent over, picked it up by the tail with a sneer and a disgusted shiver and returned it to the pocket. 'Blah.'
Opening the jacket up, Buffy spied more pockets in the lining. Extremely hesitant now, she cautiously patted them down and painstakingly reached inside the first breast pocket relieved to pull out a book and a handful of Polaroid's. She glanced at the book title. 'Whoa. This come in paperback? I don't even know what it means. "The Function of Root Mass Polypeptide Hydrasolates and their Effects on the Endocrine System". Is she actually reading that?' Something fell to the floor. Picking it up she saw it was an old headshot of Willow, it looked like a school photo. In it she was as when Buffy had first met her, all long hair and innocent smiles. She couldn't have been more than fourteen, fifteen.
Investigating the last pocket brought to light a small velvet jewel box which begged to be opened. Inside were two rings or was it one in pieces? Removing one she compared them. Two, exactly the same. A red stone with what looked like two crescent moons on either side and four smaller blue white stones topping a two-toned twirled band. She couldn't make out the types of metal... or the stones, she'd never seen anything like them. Moving to try one on an image from one of the Polaroid's suddenly caught her eye. Just distracting enough she returned the rings to their box dropping it into the container.
Flipping through the Polaroid's she cringed, most were disturbing images of torture, demons, vampires and some kind of crypt. Then came one that made her blood run cold, it was Willow but not as she knew her, this was a picture of that evil VampWillow, all overbite and bumpy forehead looking contentedly menacing as if she'd just fed. She rotated to the next one. VampWil biting Rue's neck, the look on their faces showed they were enjoying their lurid fun. In the last two they were creechily embroiled in a deep bloody kiss. Her mind went blank, she didn't know what to think or say, she just stared.
* * * * * * * * * *
Becca opened one groggy eye and blinked attempting to see through the blear. It was bright, way too bright for night. Her head ached. 'Where am I?' She was lying on her stomach. She never lied on her stomach. Raising her head slightly she opened her other eye and squinted trying to focus. 'Ugly minty green stripes.' Dropping her head she breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe in Willow's room. Moving to rise up and flip over she half stifled a cry as pain shot throughout her back, down her spine and about her backside, "Ahhh, shit." 'Oh, my ass! Oh, pain! Damn, I took one to the ass.'
Willow startled at the noise almost dropping her book, "Bec? Shhh, don't move." She soothed pleased to have her finally awake.
Gritting her teeth her fingers fumbled for the gauss pad on her side and removed it. "S'okay," she wanted Willow to see, "all better."
Willow ran her hand over the healing knife wound, it was just a reddish line now, so carefully she removed the rest of the bandages. All the same, they looked like they had had a week or so to heal, yet eerily the carving remained.
Rolling over Rue went into a bit of a coughing fit, "Ohhh, my lung ..." then stretched, "Sore ... stiff muscles... Ooo, back hurts, don't sleep on my stomach much." She shifted finding a more comfy position snuggling up against Willow with a cheeky grin. "That's your job."
"I'm glad someone's feeling much better this morning." She said stoking her arm tenderly.
"Mmmm," she purred crawling up to kiss her shoulder, "the healing always makes me feel all - rrrrr and woof-like," then nuzzled her neck seductively, "... Gives me extra additional-type energy..." Her stomach growled breaking the mood. "...and a wicked hunger." She snorted and flopped back down on the bed.
Willow chuckled softly and scooted down next to her relieved she was so muchly on the mend.
Rue tilted her head with concern taking in the dark circles under her eyes, "You didn't sleep."
"Not much," she sighed, "was worried about you and the residual magic's got me more spastic than a clown shoe."
She had no clue what that meant but was sure it wasn't good and made with the support. "Don't worry about me. Take a lot more than that to out me." She ran her hand down along her arm then grabbed her waist lustily pulling her in close, "Tell me what to do for you."
Willow half smiled then frowned and opened and closed her mouth unsure of what to say. "I don't know if there's anything you can do. It's my problem and I have to beat it. Unfortunately there's no Magiholicks Anonymous twelve step program or dark detox serum."
Rue affected an almost hurt expression.
So Willow quickly attempted to rephrase her words. "Oh no, sweetie, the problem is when I deal with the dark stuff it kinda feels like when we're together." She leaned in affecting some ear smoochies finishing with a whisper. "I want more and more and never want it to end."
"Mmmmm, wow," Rue closed her eyes enjoying the attention, "and that's a bad thing?" Then returned the advances playing at her lips.
"Yes," she exhaled dispirited, "a big very bad."
"So be bad." She coaxed between nibbles advancing to heat things up, "Let big bad Willow out to play."
"I can't." She clutched at her dreamily, the division lines beginning to blur.
Rue was far from convinced. "Yes, you can." She kissed her hard and deep, "I can take her on."
Willow began to let go, relax when suddenly flashes of last night struck her like a brick. The terrible, horrible things she did. "I can't! No." She said chilled, snapping out of it and pulling away.
"I'm sorry." Rue wasn't sure what just happened. "I was--"
Willow sat up pulling her knees in, hugging them close, "It's okay." She said trying to compose herself, "I'm sorry. It's not you, it's not this. It's all me. I can't think about it. I just can't lose control of that side of myself."
Long moments passed and finally Rue said in a quiet voice, "I *can* handle it... you." She passed a sympathetic eye over her loved one, "I've been with you at your darkest. Seven years..." her eyes glazed over, "...and I never stopped being there ... for you." Strong fingers began stroking Willow's leg softly. "You don't ever need to hold back on me you know."
Willow sighed. "I can only imagine what she put you through. I don't ever want to be like that." She attested with determined pout.
"You could never be like that." The fingers wrapped tightly around her thigh with a squeeze.
"Yes, I can." She nodded. "I was completely tripped. I let it take control, making myself, and everyone including you, vulnerable. Do you remember last night?"
Rue collapsed back into her pillow screwing up her face attempting to recall, "I don't... not much."
"Last night was bad." She informed.
"Running, I remember running and people in the woods... and screams in my head."
"People died last night." Her sad eyes drilled into her, "Innocent people."
"I-Innocent? No." She shook her head and furrowed her brow not wanting to believe it. Not wanting to hear the words. Then tried to justify it, "You were being hurt. Trying to kill you."
"They were being controlled. It wasn't them, it was the demon." She explained with a heavy heart.
Rue closed her troubled eyes her voice cracking, "I-I didn't know." Then played at her eyebrow agitatedly.
"I know." She choked back her own tears. "We all fucked up last night."
Opening her eyes she watched the droplets slowly cascade down her partner's cheeks and moved in to comfort her but was stayed off.
"I lost control, gave in to the power and the magic. I wanted to hurt people." She admitted freely.
Distressed over the outpour of emotion she moved closer. "It's okay."
But Willow was becoming highly agitated, ill at ease with the feelings, "I wanted them dead and I did it."
Rue wrapped her arms around her tenderly. "Shhh, I know."
"No, I enjoyed it." She hiccuped thoroughly ashamed.
"I understand." And Rue did, because she felt the same way every time she shifted. "I'm there, but it's okay."
"No, it's not!" Her voice broke and she openly sobbed, "I can't do that again, EVER. I don't know if I can live with myself -- what I did."
"Shhh, it's okay." She consoled aware of the frustration and fear as she herself had been down this road ages ago. "It gets easier."
"Oh Goddess, no. Bec, no." Willow was appalled. That was so wrong, so twisted. "Please, don't say that. Never again. You, you have to promise me you won't anymore ..." She clutched at her desperate for the violence to stop.
"You know I'll do anything in my power for you but I won't let anyone hurt you."
"No, no more." Willow was nearing hysterics. "You can't kill anymore. Promise me."
"I-I..." Rue was conflicted in her duty.
"Promise me!" She ordered.
"I promise," popped out automatically to soothe her lover. "I promise. I promise, just hush now and calm yourself." She was unaccustomed to Willow being like this and ill equipped to deal with it. She didn't know what to do so she just held her and stoked her letting all the babble and blub spill out until the spring was dry and the only thing left was a quietly sniffing red Willowface. "Better?"
She shook her head. "It'll never be better." Then sighed. "I need you to help me, keep on track. No more magic. For any reasons. I mean it. I can't slip. If I do, it could hurt us, *all* of us."
Rue nodded. "I understand. You can count on me, always."
Willow leaned into her laying a weary yet satisfied head on her chest. "I know."
* * * * * * * * * *
Xander sat on his sofa, feet up, munching a piece of peanut butter toast. He was much broodylike to the point of not enjoying his stories as his heart still weighed heavy over last night and the brutality that seemed to overcome everyone. The face shared by those poor people haunted his sleep as did seeing Rue take them out. But even more disturbing was the fact that since she and Wil had hooked up he had the uncanny feeling he knew Becca from somewhere as she sure knew him--but from that other reality. He thought for a long moment then his brain made a reach. What if? If realities were similar, how similar were the two? They were friends, he guessed, maybe...? She didn't seem to know Buffy so, it's most likely she never moved to SunnyD or... never made it there. Maybe then, just maybe, he, Wil and Rue were *there*, like he, Wil and Buffy are *now*... Only in that reality? Did that make sense? Yes, and no. He got up from the sofa and his morning infusion of Looney Tunes and headed for his bedroom. Wil and Rue were an item in that reality obviously, so did Oz or Tara even come into play? Who could tell with Oz, but Tara, knowing what he did of her family, probably not. And no Buffy equaled no Dawnie.
Opening the closet he dug around through some boxes. He was happy he finally decided to make that trip back to his parents basement and cleared out the last of his stuff, he wasn't interested in making a trip over there at this time of year, his Mom would never let him leave, talk his ear off and ice that cake by bursting into tears. And his dad, well... he shuddered, don't even go there. He found the box he was looking for, at the bottom of everything, of course. The box was marked in a couple of different handwriting styles. 'NOT IMPORTANT' was clearly visible in bold red letters as written by Anya. The 'NOT' crossed out in green indelible marker by Willow's hand who added 'Childhood Memories'. And finally a black 'X' Buffy had marked everything Xander's that needed to be removed from the basement that day.
He put the box on the bed and opened the top. Inside were a multitude of books. He began unpacking them and sorting them into different stacks. Placing the empty box on the floor he dropped a few of the stacks back into it and rearranged the remainder on the bed, they were his elementary and highschool year books. He tried to remember back, the last few years leading up to the razing of the highschool. The student body had become fairly close. He still saw some around, but most had continued on with their lives trying to strive for normalcy, or simply achieve a as normal as possible outcome to growing up on a Hellmouth by going away to college, the military, etc., putting squarely the tragedy and weirdness behind them.
He put the senior through freshman books aside and opened the eighth year book but he didn't expect to find much in that. He was correct. Skipping about he picked up his sixth year elementary book. Thumbing through it he abruptly stopped. There it was, Rebecca's picture. He continued scanning the pages, then he came across it. He wracked his brain and vaguely remembered something, he thought, but wasn't sure. He, Wil and Jesse were very tight and very self absorbed during that time creating their own little geeker clique to shelter them from the onslaught of abuse by the jocks, the cools, the punks and any other group who'd rise up and claim bully status. He continued his search through the earlier books making mental notes then stuck a bookmark into place on number six and put it on the dresser. Wil would definitely find this interesting.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sheila Rosenberg stood on the porch of a well manicured home.
A trim woman with short hair answered the door. "Yes, can I help you?"
"Kerri? Kerri Sloane? I don't know if you remember me. Sheila Rosenberg from Sunnydale."
Recognition escaped her. "I haven't lived in Sunnydale for many years since..."
"I know. May I come in? I've got something of great importance to discuss with you."
* * * * * * * * * *
After their bout of early morning anxiety Willow avowed they should start the day anew, but the morning was dragging as she attempted to allay her fears, immersing herself in her textbooks to strive for normalcy and proscribing Becca spend the rest of the day quiet to continue her healing processes.
Becca adored downtime with Willow, any time with Willow all to herself was bliss, but Willow was busied and ignoring her. She had tried to be helpful but was assured there was nothing she could do. Then she just tried to be close, but between laptop and books and notes there was no getting close, so she went into shut down mode to wait but Willow didn't like it when she did that. So, after she had done everything there was to do in the room, twice, including nap and nothing, she was completely buggin' for distraction. Finally, timidly, leaning in to see what Willow was reading she announced. "I've read that book. The ending sucks." Scanning the page she continued, "Nothing good on that page either."
"Oh, you read it?" Willow retorted smirk faced, voice dripping with disbelief.
The girl nodded her head simply.
She closed the book, "What's it say?"
"Where are you?"
She held the book so Becca couldn't see the pages, "Beginning of the second paragraph."
"The socioeconomic ramifications of moving into the twentieth century strained the relationships of many followers of the faith but..."
Willow tossed her a queer glance as she rattled off the text then looked down to check if she were correct or not. She was. 'Wait,' she thought. 'I just read that, probably heard my thoughts, didn't know I was projecting.' She flipped ahead to a chapter she hadn't read and picked a page at random, "Page two hundred forty-seven, fourth paragraph."
Becca blinked then began. "The witch movement today is once again branching out in ever increasing numbers as new--"
She followed along impressed then interrupted, "Bec, do you have a photographic memory or something?"
She nodded her head. "Or something." Then scratched at her eyebrow.
Willow's brow furrowed, she had seen her do this more times than she could count. Raising her hand she gently, inquisitively touched the girl's eyebrow.
The girl who unwaveringly stood in the face of danger for her flinched, closed her eye and jerked her head away.
'That was definitely odd.' "Sweetie?" She sang in calm tones, green eyes assuring.
But Becca returned a fearful conflicted gaze.
Testing, Willow raised her hand again and stroked her forehead.
Instinctively her eyes drew tight, she twitched and screwed up her face as if Willow were hurting her.
"Shhhh, its okay." She put the book down and took her face in her hands, "Look at me. What happened with your face? You always scratch your eyebrow when you're uncertain or troubled. Did someone do something to your face?"
Becca refused to meet her gaze.
Which made her all the more suspicious. "Look at me." She ordered. "Did *I* do something to your face?"
She was reluctant to answer but the abrupt change in expression said it all.
"What did *she* do?"
But Becca didn't want to say. She chewed on her lip and again tried to clutch at her brow.
Willow blocked her taking her hand, "Bec, baby, you know I'm not her."
"I know." She replied sheepishly averting her eyes again.
"Look at me, I can't help you if you don't tell me."
She remained quiet for a moment contemplating then exhaled a big breath, "Metal. Something metal... nail... or-or rod, something metal," she tapped her brow repeatedly.
Willow exhibited shock face. "Into your head?"
Becca nodded.
"She drilled into your head? Oh, sweet Goddess." Horrified she closed her eyes, the thought utterly repugnant and nauseating.
"It worked." A chipper voice hailed.
"Worked?" She shot back perplexed opening her eyes to meet a wide eyed innocent gaze.
Rue nodded, "I don't forget the books, or the maps." Then tapped her head. "All in here for the long stay."
Willow drifted away she could only wonder what her counterpart was trying to do. Was she actually attempting to achieve something, performing a surgery or just torturing the girl for her own sick twisted pleasure? She'd have to check some medical references later.
"...Made them come too. I don't like them. I don't wanna see them." The girl pouted.
"What?" She snapped back to now.
Becca hid her face in Willow's shoulder. "So horrible."
"What is?"
"The ghost people." Agitated she tried to change the subject. "Can we do something?"
"No." Willow pulled her up to stare into her dark eyes again. "Ghosts? You see ghosts?"
She nodded. "I guess. I dunno. I try real hard, I do, to ignore it. But they're everywhere. Places you don't expect, like Buffy's Mom in the living room just sitting there staring." She closed her eyes with a cringe and shivered.
Willow froze attempting to process the data; rationalize her counterpart. The photographic memory she could understand as useful but why would her evil self want someone who could see spirits? Or was this an unexpected side effect? Like Alice through the looking glass this was curiouser and curiouser. Or rather, like a William Burroughs wonderland trip more fucked up than one person should be allowed and still turn out normal.
* * * * * * * * * *
That afternoon at the Magic Box after what seemed like many hours of research and constant Anya nattering, Buffy and Dawn decided on a much needed book break.
In three moves Dawn hauled off and took Buffy to the floor.
"What the?" Buffy groaned from the mat.
"Oh my God," She croaked wide eyed raising her hands to her face in alarm. They didn't know who was more surprised. She gaped at her hands, grinned evilly realizing what she had actually just done then jumped up and down triumphantly, "YES! Yes! Yes!"
"Where did you learn that?" Buffy asked disparaging rubbing her back.
At that moment Willow entered the training room with Rue. "Hey guys."
"Becca!" Dawn called excitedly.
Buffy closed her eyes, "My first guess."
"What?" She asked staring at the highly effervescent girl.
"I just *kicked* Buffy's ass." She bubbled.
"Oh?" She sniggered.
"Excuse me?" Buffy corrected, "Knocked me on my ass with a low blow is more like it." She got up and went over to the girlfriend who was unpacking Willow's gear. "What are you teaching my sister?"
"How to win." She replied flatly.
Buffy folded her arms, "With low blows and cheap shots?"
"If that's what it takes." She faced her off, "I've never met anyone who played fair when their life was at stake." Then twirled a stake to emphasize her point.
Buffy shook her head and marched over to her bag to release some frustration.
Willow followed her. "How was the search?"
Buffy shrugged. "Now that we have a name we've got plenty of info. All saying the same thing. He's bad and he's not going anywhere, so..."
"Yeah, I got some leads to follow up on, hopefully we can discover the spell the warlock used."
"She looks okay this morning." Buffy offered changing the subject with a flip of her head.
"Yeah. Pretty much all better." Willow beamed. "Super healing, remember." Softly jabbing her best friend delighted to see a brighter less harsh-type attitude.
Buffy smiled a bit embarrassed. "I'm glad. How about you?"
"Pffft, what's a few more deaths and a wicked dark magic itch I can't scratch gonna do to my already tarnished permanent record?" They hugged.
"I'm on a roll." Dawn announced grabbing a stake from the wall. "Today is the day *I* stake *you*." She pointed at Rue still bouncy with ado.
"We'll see..." She half smiled.
"I wanna see this too." Willow announced returning to her side with a kiss before heading off to grand stand. She hadn't witnessed her spar yet so she was intrigued to know just what she might be capable of. "Don't embarrass her too much."
"Willow, don't jinx it." Dawn whined.
A shrug and a smile was her response.
Rue instructed Dawn to come at her. Holding the stake like a knife Dawn advanced striking down at her from above. Rue blocked it with a forearm, twisted the girl's arm away grabbing her forearm and pulled her in. Using her other arm she reached out and grabbed her securely by the neck. "Snap." She said, "You're dead." Dawn frowned discouraged. "Let's do it in slow motion and I'll show you what you did wrong." Dawn hoisted the stake again and Rue stopped her, "First, never hold the stake like that. It takes to long to come at me and you're leaving your body wide open, there's a hundred other ways I could stop you. Hold it like this." She repositioned the girl. "And strike from this angle." She showed her. "Better, now it's harder for me to block. Remember, if you can't kill your opponent on the first strike, always incapacitate them. The eyes are a good place to start."
"The eyes have it." Xander sounded just arriving. "And I's ready to rumble." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "But in this crowd I'll settle for tumble."
Buffy kept watch through her workout as Rue patiently reviewed some basics with them.
* * * * * * * * * *
Eventually it was do or die time.
"Okay, I'm gonna do this." Willow announced building her own confidence.
Rue could sense her nervousness. "You don't have to if you don't want to."
"I said I would and I'm gonna do this." She exhaled. Raising her sword she took a run at her opponent, swung, and off went its head.
"Um, okay that was good." Rue said hinting at encouraging.
Willow pouted at her disappointed reaction. "You have but-face."
She affected a crooked smile not wanting to criticize but was left with no choice. "Can we try one with our eyes open? The eyes really need to be open when we do that or our head might just go pffft."
"Okay, sure." Willow nodded abashed. "I just didn't want to get blood, er, straw in my eye."
Rue snorted. She was so cute in her efforts at fearlessness.
Raising her brow she leaned on her sword admitting, "I'm hopeless, I know."
"No, no you're not." Rue stepped in with a big hug of encouragement.
* * * * * * * * * *
Continuing her workout on the bag Buffy tossed a sideways glance at her pals every so often. So far, from what she saw, Rue's tutelage was, for the most part, accurate and well disciplined but something was amiss between the laughter and jokes and the hollow wooden thokage versus loud metal clangage.
Taking a breather she watched the interactions. Rue readily sparred with Dawn and Xander raising a sword or a stake, connecting with theirs and feigning attacks, holding her weapon to their vulnerable spots when they were left exposed, then chastising and re-instructing. But with Willow she did not take up a weapon. She framed her, holding her arms, guiding them as Willow initiated loving distractions, positioned her at the proper angles, even stood in front of her as a target, but all unarmed.
Buffy's brain began to wander. "You're pretty good at that." She said retrieving her towel, trying to make conversation but Rue didn't respond. "Why don't you put a few hits on Willow and see if she can counter them?" She turned to Dawn and held out her hand. Dawn handed her her stake and Buffy offered it to Rue.
"She's not ready yet." Came a simple reply.
"Nonsense. Wil's used swords lots of times plus she's got the advantage against this little number" She pushed it at her again.
Willow raised a finger. "Correction, *had* swords plenty of times but mostly got knocked on my ass before I could busta anything, much less a move."
"Now's your chance to shine." She commented with a cheeky smile taking Rue's hand and forcing the stake into it then raising her arms in a gesture for her to proceed.
"Okay, You're the boss." Willow agreed hefting her sword one more time. "As long as you realize this is comical in that "America's Funniest Home Fatalities" show kinda way."
Buffy watched Rue's features twist as she stood deliberating. Suddenly she turned. "You're the authority here. You should lead the demo. I'm the one you come to for low blows and cheap shots, remember?" She flipped the stake at her, it stuck in the floorboard near her foot, and she walked over to the couch taking a seat.
"No, it's okay." Buffy softened. "Maybe you're right."
A quizzical look passed amongst the Scoobies.
Willow moved to Rue's side trading the sword for her squirty bottle in her gym bag.
"Oh, by the way, here's your knife." Without warning Buffy pulled a blade from behind her back and whipped it at Willow's head. Rue leaned up catching it without hesitation eyeing her evilly.
"What the?" Willow spat, water spraying everywhere, startled by the blade looming inches from her face.
"Buffy?" Xander protested his heart skipping a precious beat.
Rue stood and stroked Willow's shoulder, eyes glued on her. "Thanks. I thought it was gone for good." She snarled yet kept her cool keeping her promise.
"Where'd you get it?" Buffy demanded her somewhat unorthodox tactics falling short on the girl.
"I brought it with me." She vagued.
"Bec, how did you get the knife?" Willow clarified Buffy's question equally interested.
But, "I took it from the Slayer." Was all that was offered up.
"Isn't that Faith's knife?" Xander chimed in with a point of his finger moving closer to check it out for the first time.
Rue looked about face tightening. "You know the Slayer--the other Slayer here too?"
"Yeah, sure." He offered openly, "It's kind of an interesting story, the whole Buffy/Faith thing."
She sneered a gloaty sneer and merrily punched him in the shoulder.
"Ow." He sounded at the friendly tap that felt more like a crushing blow to him.
"Any story where she dies I'm wanting to hear."
She didn't know.
"Boy, she was something." He waxed rubbing his shoulder not listening. "The original bad girl. She and Buffy, like night and day. Oil and vinegar. Right up until the end. She could rock your world. Oh, she was hot, red hot. I once saw her take out a whole nest of vamps--"
"What?!" She cut him off, his words burning her soul. Brimming over unable to keep her cool she angrily stuck the knife into the wall with a roar.
Her words suddenly penetrated his mental happy but it was too late. "Wait, dead? But she's--" He attempted only to be pushed backward as she stormed off. He watched her leave slamming the door behind her. "Did I say something wrong?" He appealed to the group.
"Yeah." Buffy said flatly.
"Okaaaay. Clue?" He implored looking to each of the girls.
"She's not a Faith fan." Willow finally offered.
"That makes two of us." Dawn added with a nose crinkle folding her arms.
Buffy tried to clear the haze for him a bit. "Xander, when she said, 'took the knife from the Slayer,' did you really think Faith just let her have it?"
"Well, no... Oh." The light winked on in his mind.
Dawn had crossed over to the couch and was now tugging fiercely at the knife. "This is not coming out of the wall." She announced.
He furrowed his brow in contemplation. "So you really think she offed Faith where she came from?"
"If not her then Willow probably did." Buffy pondered.
"So, should we tell her Faith's still alive?" Dawn asked tiring of her fruitless effort.
"Not if we want everything to remain..." Buffy began to be joined by Willow, who in unison answered. "Five by five."
* * * * * * * * * *
Rue sat in the nook all glower faced since she emerged from the training room spitting fire and brimstone. Anya grabbed a duster and casually made her way over curious about her usually subdued employee's sudden mood alteration. "Did the training session break up already?" She asked feigning nonchalantly.
Rue didn't answer.
"Don't let her get you down." She said furrowing her brow at Rue's disturbed expression. "She can be a right bitch when she wants. All that look at me, I'm the Slayer. Yadda-yadda, I'm chosen and your not. It can be right down depressing."
"It's not Buffy." She replied with a wave of the hand not wanting to get into it right this moment.
"Oh, that's a change of the good. So what's with the face then?" She chirruped starved for gossip.
Rue looked into Anya's lively eyes. She'd been around for a very long time, Rue knew this from the daily recounts of her activities as a demon. Maybe she could help with what was truly on her mind. "It's this." She gestured about.
"The shop?" Anya grimaced getting defensive. "You don't have to work here you know. I'm only letting you do the heavy work as a favor to Willow."
"No," Rue shook her head, "This-this. The magic this. It's hurting Willow. She's promised to stop, but--"
"If you don't trust Willow--" She shrugged.
"I trust Willow." She assured emphatically. "Willow doesn't trust Willow."
Anya nodded fully comprehending. "Yeah, the dark gods know we've been through this all before."
Rue blinked clueless, "You... have?"
She sounded so surprised it caught Anya off guard. "Yes, didn't Wil--no I guess not."
"The magic is hard for her?" She cocked her head inquisitively.
"No, that's the problem. The magic is too easy for her so she tends to abuse it. There's also her little control freak issue but we won't discuss that here."
Rue thought for a moment. "So, if I can make it not so easy, then maybe that would... help her?"
Anya pursed her lips and nodded imparting. "Take the bottle out of the drunk's hand they can't drink."
"But what can I do?" She appealed. "The magic stuff *I* know doesn't cover anything like this ... just ripping worlds asunder and general mayhem."
"Sheesh, you people don't ever start small do you?" She groused with a disgusted shake of her head.
"Are there any spells or charms to help make her stop...but won't hurt her?" She asked forthright.
"Oh, yes, of course, there are hundreds of binding spells and dampening objects. Problem is Willow knows a really lot of them, or is already strong enough to counter or nullify them completely." Anya thought. Then thought some more. "The Devil's Cuff." She finally said.
"Devil?" Rue cast her an apprehensive glance not liking the sound of it.
"Yes, that's what the mortals call it. Always with the flair for the dramatic. It's actually a Prangeyleon bracelet. It literally siphons off all magic that the wearer comes in contact with."
Rue's face brightened at the words and she was eager to know more. "So if they try to cast a spell?"
"Can't."
"And what if they get attacked? Say, someone lobs a magic bolt?"
"Made inactive and harmlessly absorbed." She assured.
Rue was elated. "Sounds great. Do we have one?"
* * * * * * * * * *
"Oh boy, I don't know if I can live through more show and tell today, Buffy." Willow announced reluctantly.
The three had adjourned to the couch after sending Dawn on a diversionary Chinese take-out errand. Buffy held up a stack of Polaroid's. "These were in her pocket when I emptied the jacket. I thought it best you see them."
Willow took them and began flipping though one by one, "Yeah, I could see how you would--" What she saw stopped her dead, her eyes growing wide. "Oh..."
"--Be forced to use big words like trepidatious in my sentences to emphasize that she's scare-me dangerous." Finished Buffy.
And even wider on the next, "...kaaay."
"Sweet." Xander commented cringing at the images.
"Before it would have sent me on a full blown wiggins." She divulged honestly.
"But now?"
"Concern. Deep concern. See, furrowed brow and lip extended pouty style." She took one of the pictures and held it up. "This person is still *your* person. She hasn't gone anywhere. We need to make sure she doesn't make any surprise appearances."
Willow stayed silent staring at the photographs, again Bec had not withheld this information. She had been open and honest, it was she who closed her mind to the truth, softening it to rationalize the kind, devoted, gentle soul she knew.
But the blood soaked torturer in the pictures was her too. Her under *her* control, under *her* influence, or rather the other her. Bec would do anything for her--both of her, including kill. She realized that, she'd seen it first hand now. Only she didn't ask for anything except to be there for her, but it was all to clear her counterpart did and often. When she could get her to speak of such things, she could see her inner struggle, feel her regret at what she had done, but it was what made her--her counterpart, happy. Kill that person was just another order, a task, as if she had been asked to get a glass of juice from the refrigerator. No, the girl wasn't evil, Willow was resolute in her belief, she just did evil things to please the one she loved, *her*--the *other her*. Willow's head suddenly hurt. "She won't." She guaranteed.
"She did last night." Buffy reminded needlessly.
"We all made horrible mistakes last night." Willow defended with a twinge of sadness.
"Yeah, Buff, don't single her out." Xander said fidgety. "Our footnotes deserve equal attention with the fluorescent pink hi-liter for the Scooby Diary Cliff Notes."
"Fair enough." She looked at them sullen. Then turned to Willow the serious tingeing her voice, "How's it with the first day of no *big* magic?" As if she didn't know.
"Feels like I have ants under my skin most of the time when I'm not busy."
She placed a steady and on her shoulder. "Hang in there."
"Like the kitty on the limb." She joked raising her hands to imitate the poster, "With both paws."
"And how's Becca with all this?"
"She's my rock." Willow smiled inside.
"You sure she's not gonna crumble under pressure? I mean, from what you've said she seems sensitive to the dark stuff too and the demon has already gotten control of her through you once. It's always a possibility again."
Buffy's not so subtle reminder irritated her. "So are cavities that doesn't mean I'll live in fear of getting one."
"So not the same."
"Buffy, what do you want me to do? Me, of all people, knows how serious this is. And the last thing I want to do is drag any of you into Hell with me."
Xander stopped her, "Okay, Wil, you're not dragging anyone anywhere. And as long as we keep you safe Becca's not going all supernatural predilectiony, right?"
"Oh, see," Buffy jumped in, "now he's all with the big words too. It's an epidemic." They laughed then Buffy abruptly changed the subject. "Xander, why don't you see if Dawn's actually placed that order."
He turned to look at her funny then caught the meaning in her eye. "Bu--" He began a protest.
But she interrupted him. "Or you can stay and be just one of the girls as we make with the overmuch descriptive girlie talk."
"No-no!" He found himself blurting out. He didn't even need to think that offer over and before he knew it instinct and reflexes engaged and he was standing. "Pass. I'll just check on Dawn, like you suggested. Give her a hand."
Buffy waited as Xander exited the training room then finished "Wil, it's not just Becca either now. I'm worried about Anya too."
"Anya?" That was the last thing Willow ever expected to come out of Buffy's mouth.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I think you should leave now." Mrs. Sloane was visibly agitated.
"I know this is upsetting. I'm sorry."
"Please, leave my house." She ordered.
"I can't imagine how this sounds but just listen." Sheila appealed.
"Leave now." Kerri pushed her to the door.
"Keep the picture. My info is on the back if you change your mind." She said as the door was promptly closed in her face.
* * * * * * * * * *
Rue took the Devil's Cuff and twirled it about examining it, "What's it made of?"
Anya came up behind her and folded her arms, "Some kind of basal mineral, I think. Either that, or demon poo."
Rue dropped the bracelet on the table.
"You got my joke." She smiled smugly and clapped cheering herself on, "That was a joke. I'm getting better at humor aren't I?"
"Oh yeah, much better." Rue was not amused.
Anya picked it up. "It's not very pretty or fashionable if you ask me, but it'll do the job all right. One hundred dollars. That's the cheapest I can go on that."
Rue's mouth fell open. "You're gonna charge me?"
"Hello, these aren't made in Taiwan." She informed snidely. "In fact I don't think they're made at all anymore. Core diving trolls haven't been heard of in..." She gave it a good think to no avail. "Well, they were bordering on myth when I was young."
"That's just not fair. You know Willow needs that." Rue argued.
"You wanna talk fair, tell Willow to pay me for destroying this place, not once but *twice* now. *And* for all the stuff she pilfers for Buffy's spells. This isn't Goodwill. It's a business. So, one hundred dollars is fair. Normally I'd charge way more to the average unsuspecting consumer but, after all, you are my friend." Anya admitted.
Rue cocked her head throwing surprise face at her, "Me? Friend?"
"Yes, Frankenstein, you, friend." She aped.
"But you hate me."
"I never said I hated you."
"Yes, you did." She rebuffed.
"No, I said dislike." Anya clarified, "They're two totally different things."
"Oh." Rue said still confused, "I, uh... never had any real friends... well, when I was twelve, but not since." Reaching into her pocket she rummaged around. "This was my only friend." And pulled out an object. "I thought everything was gone but Willow found it and gave it back to me." Holding it aloft for Anya to see.
Anya took one look at it and hit the roof. "Get rid of it! Put it away! Are you fucking crazy?!"
Rue didn't understand and looked at it, it was just a dirty cloth doll, "It's a doll, just a toy." She held it out, "Mister Doogie." Waving it at her inoffensively.
Anya screamed in terror, the type of scream that hones in on your spinal cord and shoots down it like barbed wire then turns around, shoots up again and makes you clench your teeth. The sound echoed about the Magic Box like nails on a chalkboard taking Becca quite by surprise.
"Put it away NOW!" Anya shrieked near hysterical.
"Okay." She stuffed the toy back into her pocket. "It's back in my pocket."
"Don't take that out again--EVER!" She ordered holding herself tight and chewing on her thumb nail.
"I won't, sheesh."
"How dare you bring a bunny in here." She scolded.
"What are you mental? It wasn't real." Becca defended.
But Anya persisted, "It was a bunny."
"It was a toy." Becca declared.
"A bunny!"
"A toy."
"Bunny."
"It was a bunny toy." Becca argued.
"Still a bunny!" Anya's pitch increased.
"Okay!" Becca relented. "So, you have a morbid fear of--"
"Don't even say it!" She shivered, "Yes."
"I didn't know." She asserted. There was an awkward silence then, "You're a grown woman--I mean, demon. How can you be afraid of--"
"AAAAHHH! NO! AH!" Anya gripped tight her ears, "Llalallalallalalalalaa."
"Okay!" Becca screamed. After a moment she started to giggle, the giggles turned into laughter.
"Are you laughing at me?" She crossed over and slapped at the girl. "Don't laugh at me."
Becca threw her arm up defensively at the assault, "I'm not." She continued to laugh, "I thought I was fucked up."
"Yeah? Well, wait till someone pulls your greatest fear out of their pocket and waves it at you all nonchalanty." She mimicked.
Becca suddenly became silent and broodylike, "That wouldn't be a good thing."
"You're darn tootin'." Anya paced back and forth, "Shit, look at that." She held out her hands, they were visibly shaking. "What were we talking about?" She asked trying to clear her mind.
"How you hate me." Becca said plainly.
Anya shot daggers at her, clenched her fists, turned, and fuming grabbed the stapler next to the cash register, "I don't hate you!" Then threw it at her head, "but keep it up..."
At that moment Buffy and Willow emerged from the training room to see what the commotion was about as Xander returned from the Chinese take-out with Dawn carrying two big boxes. They set them down on the research table. "What a concept. Wok Inn, Take out." He grinned goofily.
"Are you done pun-ishing me yet?" Dawn asked with a roll of her eyes.
"Anya? Becca?" Buffy called. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Anya answered grumpily picking up the stapler and slapping at Becca some more. "Food's here. Just... eat your food."
"Ooookay..." Buffy replied making eye contact with Willow at the new strangeness.
"Oh, Wil, I have something you should see." Xander began as he unpacked the paper cartons.
"Whoa, not you too?" Willow clutched at her temples, "If I hear that phrase from one more person today I'm not to be held responsible for my actions."
Xander lead her into the stack room and sat her down. Rifling in his carryall he pulled out the yearbook. "Look what I found." He said proudly, gesturing for her to open to the page he had marked with a Post-it.
Willow looked. It was a picture of Becca. She looked back to Xander who was smiling so sincere and debated over telling him. "Um, Xander, me and Bec kinda--"
He halted her, the look on her face said it all. "You knew."
She nodded her head.
"Well, you could tell a guy. I've been going crazy with the déjà vu since she got here."
"Sorry, I fully intended to tell you, we just got distracted and I forgot."
"It's so weird though," he rubbed his chin, "because I don't remember any kind of funeral. I didn't even remember this."
Willow eyed him funny, "What?"
"The funeral. It would have been quick and all but I don't remember it. Do you remember your Mom going?"
Willow opened the book again and studied it. It was a memoriam page. "So she's dead?"
He cocked his head perplexed. "You said you knew."
Willow's brow raised, "We found her pictured in another book, so I knew she was part of this world and went to Sunnydale Elementary but I--we, didn't know she died."
"So you never checked to see if there was possibly another her running around here to bump into or confuse into the mix?" He shot her a look of concern, usually Willow was a step ahead of him and he was the one playing catch-up boy. "Does Buffy know?"
Willow crinkled her nose, opened her mouth then closed it again and just shook her head, no.
* * * * * * * * * *
Xander blindly entered the shower room, a fluffy towel over his eyes wiping at his sweat streaked face. Buffy was pushing everyone awfully hard all of a sudden. His muscles were stiff and he was still sore from his aggravated injuries and feeling so not like one hundred percent. Lowering the towel he wiped at his neck, glanced up then stopped in his tracks.
There she was taking a shower, her back to him.
Time passed as he stared in fascination. The injuries were well healed now but the artwork, if you could call it that, remained. He found himself repulsed yet intrigued and was completely engrossed in its design, so much so it didn't occur to him he was watching her naked, bathing-like, in the shower, all sudsy and... Until she turned and spoke to him, "Xander." Breaking the mesmer.
He quickly covered his eyes and turned his back, "Sorry, so sorry..." His mind swirled, went blank and to his horror he found himself unexpectedly blurting out, "...I thought you were Buffy."
"Buffy lets you watch her shower?" She smiled coyly sounding impressed. "Maybe she's not as prudish as I thought."
Fire engine red became him as he realized she must have sensed him there long before she said anything. How could she not with her enhanced senses? So, why didn't she do the normal freakbout girly dealy and toss a shampoo bottle at his invading manly personage? "No, oh no," he stammered feeling all thumbs, "I-I--" But before he could finish he got his answer.
"Alexander, it's okay." Dark intense eyes assured, then a lowered voice enticed. "I don't mind if you watch."
'Oh God.' He swallowed hard yet kept his hand firmly over his eyes. He had had a recurring dream since highschool that started with that same sentence and ended... Well, usually ended with his Mom screaming at him from the kitchen to get his lazy f-ing ass out of bed and go to school. But sometimes ended... 'No no no no. Mustn't have those thoughts.' He wrestled with his mind to keep control and not let anything suddenly make a sudden move and turn this into a more embarrassing, humiliating-type situation. "You called me Alexander." He exclaimed like puberty boy shifting gears on his thought train. "You did that before too, at The Bronze."
"It is your name isn't it?" She questioned.
"Yes, but no one calls me that, only my parents...when they're angry...and plastered."
"Okay then."
He turned towards her but kept the hand over his eyes. "Where you're from, did we... *know* one another?"
"Yes, we did." She smiled, "Quite well as a matter of fact."
This piqued his interest, "Oh?" He opened his fingers a bit and peeped out, "So ahh--"
"It was Willow and me and you." She offered through lathering.
Ah-ha, he knew it and moved his hand to his forehead then gestured, "Was I a--"
"A vampire?" She finished. "Yes. We were large and in charge in Sunnydale. Well, and a whole bunch more actually."
"Wow, that must have been something." He mused.
"It was good. For the most part." Squeezing her scrubby she held it out. "Since you're here, can you get my back?"
"Wha-whaa--" He stammered. 'Oh God, the dream again. No, this isn't happening. I'm still home asleep in my bed hepped up on antibiotics. That's it.'
"Back, please." She tossed it at him continuing. "Willow took good care of us and we her."
The scrubby hit him in the chest leaving a damp sudsy circle on his shirt. Hesitantly he took it and advanced. She turned and there was the artwork again. A constant reminder. Brushing her hair aside he took in her defined athletic curves. A perfect combination of softness and strength enveloped in silky, glisteny shades of pale.
"Everything was fine with our little family till someone got greedy and over stepped. Yep, all fine till *she* came along."
He touched the scrubby to her back guiding it gently across the Willowscript.
"Harder." She ordered.
He jumped slightly but obliged applying more pressure. "Uh, she?"
"Faith."
His interest grew.
"You knew what she'd do." She teased splashing him. "You knew she wouldn't roll over like a good kitty." With lightning speed she snatched him by the neck, her tone changing, face contorting. His heart skipped a beat, breath catching in his constricted throat. There she was scary Rue. Angry, unhappy Rue. "You knew." She growled inches from his face pressing her body against his.
"B-b-becca, not me." He cried out in fear finding his arms shooting out to grab her by the waist to push her away. "I'm Xander, not Alexander. Different universe, non-threatening-type, fragile-necked, human Xander."
"What in the fourth dimension of Hell is going on here?" Anya's shrill voice echoed around the room upon seeing the two embracing in the shower.
Rue continued unfazed. "You two planned the whole thing. But you'd never see it, cause--"
"Xander!" Anya barked.
That got his attention. His head snapped about instinctively yet strangely he couldn't decide whose wrath he feared more.
She continued to make a stink, "I knew it, you are such a liar. If I live to be five thousand, I will never understand you men? Not interested in a female who wants it, ooooh no. Gotta go after the lesbian. Raise the challenge bar and the hornage level. That boos your Y ego? You're pathetic. Where's Willow?" She turned on her heel heading back out to the front. "Willow!"
Rue jerked his head back about hard and whispered into his ear, her hot breath chilling his blood. "--Oops, you died." She then pulled away, smiled innocuously and took her scrubby with a cheery, "Thanks," before heading off to the locker area to dress.
He stood there sticky wet from her body and sheer fright. Long moments passed then finally he inhaled sharply realizing he was still holding his breath in his panic. Anya's distant incensed clucking finally roused him, unfreezing his fear induced limbs. His mind raced at her threatening revelation. He was totally confused, was she really angry at him or was this a sport? Just how stable was she? Should he continue to press her for info? No, not now. Now he'd have to rebuff Anya in front of everyone. "Anya! Ahn, no. It's not what you think. Don't go all-- Willow!"
* * * * * * * * * *
To be continued in Chapter 8